


Undeniable Comforts

by quasiouster (QuasiOuster)



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuasiOuster/pseuds/quasiouster
Summary: AU. Neil and Claire deal with the distance between them as they cope with the stress of being a doctor during a pandemic. Neil Melendez is alive and well (although maybe a little sad for part of the story).
Relationships: Claire Browne & Neil Melendez, Claire Browne/Neil Melendez
Comments: 26
Kudos: 46





	1. Neil

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little something I wrote while editing my other story.
> 
> While this is essentially an exploration of Neil and Claire's relationship, it's a small way to express my appreciation for what frontline healthcare workers and essential personnel are dealing with during our global public health crisis (also acknowledging those struggling from the economic consequences that are keeping businesses closed and people out of work). My apologies for the parts I don't get quite right. 
> 
> I'm grateful for the dedication and perseverance of my fellow humans and will continue to do my part to help keep people safe. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading.

Neil lay on his back, eyes wide open and alert.

He can’t sleep, unlike the woman next to him in bed who is breathing softly in a light doze. He can barely make out the lines of her graceful, uncovered back in the dim light of the room.

One thought repeats in his mind: This is wrong. And it can’t end well.

They hadn’t meant the evening to end this way. The stress of a raging pandemic, a quiet night alone to decompress away from prying eyes, an ill-fated kiss – and here they are naked and sated in his bed.

The more he dwells on it, the more despicable he feels.

There are rules about this. Ethical considerations. He’d been through this already at the hospital and he hates the idea of gossip or a hit to both their reputations if word of this one night of weakness gets out. He doesn’t want to go down that road again. And no matter the emotional vulnerability that led to this point, he knows it’s not what either of them should want.

And the worst part? It feels like a complete betrayal. It _is_ a betrayal. To himself and to his heart.

To her.

Audrey stirs next to him, turning over and opening her eyes slowly to see him still awake. She watches him, recognizing the roiling emotions he’s wrestling with.

“This doesn’t have to be a big deal, Neil. We both needed it. And we both know it likely won’t happen again.”

That’s Audrey. Practical. A realist.

Not a romantic like him. Claire hates that, but he can’t stop those notions when he thinks of her.

He can’t stop thinking of her, period.

And Audrey is right. This won’t happen again. The moment has passed for them. Being together like this had helped, but not enough. They’ll move on. Permanently this time.

* * *

Claire picks up on it immediately. That’s how well she knows him now; how well they knew each other.

Audrey hadn’t stayed the night. They’d gone their separate ways. But something of the encounter lingers when she stops by the lounge the next morning to check-in with his team and deliver the latest CDC updates.

He doesn’t know if it’s an errant look or the hint of an old familiarity and intimacy.

The others aren’t paying much attention – Park seems preoccupied and Shaun is focused on the updated protocols. Morgan, on temporary loan to manage the COVID triage, is busy looking through the stack of consults.

But when he meets Claire’s eyes after Audrey leaves, he can tell that she knows. She’s picked up on whatever signal screamed that he and his ex had fallen back on old ways and slept together the night before.

And then she smiles calmly at him. Not angry, not even surprised. It’s a brief and enigmatic expression of understanding along with a host of other unknowable emotions to him.

He hates himself even more for her acceptance.

* * *

Neil doesn’t see her the rest of the day. Or much of the day after.

She’s working mostly with Audrey in the COVID Unit. She’s the Chief’s right hand as they try to keep up with a shortage of both supplies and information along with the day-to-day trauma and death toll of a medical emergency none of them have experienced in their lifetimes.

He and Park are handling the bulk of the emergency surgery schedule. Shaun and Andrews are overseeing the ER. Morgan is running interference in the clinic.

Early one morning, he finally catches her sitting on the balcony eating a quick yogurt in between emergencies. The sun is barely up. They’re both in the middle of a 36 hour shift that they know will go longer.

He hasn’t been home since the night he and Audrey were together. Maybe he’s avoiding it.

He brought his own yogurt to the party and joins her at the table facing out into the scenic distance. They sit in silence.

“Things are really tough right now. We’re entitled to our comforts,” she says before spooning another bite into her mouth. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed out it.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he replies, a little too quickly. At least not for the reasons she may think. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Claire shrugs, but doesn’t respond.

He misses her. Misses their runs that they no longer have the time or energy for. Misses the fact that there were no silences in their relationship before now.

Before the earthquake when he’d dodged death when that beam fell inches from his body. Before a pandemic the upended their routines.

Before the unspoken admission of what they felt for each other but couldn’t have.

They finish their breakfast and watch the rest of the sunrise until she leaves. She takes his empty container and spoon with her.

* * *

Neil dreams of her sometimes. Dreams of them together, having a life that doesn’t seem possible in the waking world.

Sometimes they’re domestic. Sometimes they’re passionate. All of them leave him wanting more.

Wanting _her_. 

He wonders if she thinks of him now that there are no more late nights working on an interesting case or secret excursions to blow off steam. They haven’t worked on a case together in weeks outside of the occasional emergency surgery. There’s barely time to share a greeting much less an update on their lives. But they work as seamlessly together as ever in the OR, anticipating the other’s needs and requiring little negotiation to get the job done.

He can’t even get upset about it. Her working more with Lim will only help her in the race to become Chief Resident.

One late night, he stops by Audrey’s office to deliver paperwork. As the administrative weight of her job increases, he’s tried to pick up some slack. Show his value as a leader even if Audrey had beaten him out for Chief of Surgery.

He finds her sitting at her desk, head in her hands looking more worn out than he’d ever seen her, even in their residency days.

He sits across from her, letting her know that he’s there as her friend, not a colleague or rival. There are no tears in her eyes – he’s rarely ever seen her cry – but she’s on edge, precariously close to falling off.

They all are, honestly.

The week had been brutal. Cases were surging despite shelter-in-place orders. Negligent nursing home and prison administrators, ill-fated family gatherings, defiant religious leaders and conspiracy theorists, careless young people and neighbors too set in their ways to change. Those who weren’t heeding the warnings were dying in their hospital and taking too many others with them.

He’d spent the last three weeks diverting surgeries and patients to make room for the new ones. They’re fighting every other hospital in the region over supplies and staffing and funding.

He’d overheard Park fighting with his wife after putting off another visit to Arizona to reunite their family. Shaun’s agitation over the stress they all felt is worse than Neil has ever seen. Morgan is both overwhelmed and helpless to treat people the way she best knows how as a surgeon.

And Claire? He hasn’t seen her at all.

He worries about her constantly. Is she working too hard? Is she taking every precaution to stay safe in the COVID Unit? What happens if she gets sick?

“This is awful,” Audrey says. “I’m failing everyone.”

Neil doesn’t envy her position. But she’s doing the best she can. Better than anyone could – he truly believes that. And he tells her so.

“My mom keeps calling me. Asking me if I’m eating right, threatening to send my cousins to my house with soup,” she says. “I’m so annoyed but so grateful she’s stuck in Taiwan because she’s safer there and people are being racist as hell here and spreading bad medical information that’s getting people killed.”

Before Neil can respond, she sighs heavily.

“I spent two hours on the phone trying to get a fifth of the PPE shipment heading to the South Bay. St. Joseph’s got the last two ventilators in the city. I don’t know when we’re getting more. I have a healthy stock for cleaning supplies and a long list of things we need to trade them for. It shouldn’t be like this.”

There’s nothing Neil can say to make any of it better. They both know it. She just needs someone to listen.

“In those two hours, four of my patients died, two of Andrews, and five more from the other doctors on duty. I’m on the phone fighting tooth and nail to get a meager stock of necessities _and_ trying to answer my pages. And my resident, who’s the only doctor in the room, is losing patient after patient after patient.”

That’s why he hadn’t seen Claire. She’d been monitoring Audrey’s patients while they scramble to get the bare minimum to do their jobs.

“Audrey, I’m sorry.”

He wishes he had more soothing words for her. He understands her sense of responsibility. The friend and colleague, the ex-lover in him wants to make this better for her.

But all he wants to do right now is find Claire.

As if sensing his concern, she leans back in her chair and sighs again. “Claire was great. By the book. She didn’t panic, just did what she had to do.”

Neil doesn’t doubt that at all. “Is she okay?”

“Are any of us okay?” Audrey throws back. “I sent her home. I can’t spare her a full rotation but I gave her 24 hours.”

Neil nods. He wants to go to her. Comfort her. Like they used to do for each other before all this.

“I have to be honest …” Neil ponders his admission. “I am really glad I’m not the boss right now.”

They both chuckle, tired, glad for the levity.

Neil turns serious. “But I’m glad you are. There’s no one I trust more to see us through this, Audrey. Not Marcus, not Glassman. You.”

He stands up to leave, reaching over to close the folder in front of her. “Marcus is on for the rest of the night. Go home and get some sleep.” Neil walks out of the office.

Twenty minutes later, he’s standing in front of Claire’s door, gazing into her tired and surprised eyes.

TBC...


	2. Claire

It’s easy to move on right after the earthquake.

That night, Claire is busy with the triaging, performing surgery on-site, assisting the H.U.R.T. teams. Neil disappears to escort the brewery owner, his former patient, back to the hospital.

She stays behind and works through her fears of how easily she could have lost him. And she almost breaks.

They have one quiet moment back at the hospital when they separately check in on Marta. They find the couple napping comfortably in the hospital room. Claire stands at Neil's shoulder, appreciating the two souls they treated with just the one surgery.

She recalls the bravery of the women’s love. She recalls what Neil said about her being incredible. She recalls how it made her feel.

She glances and Neil. He’s remembering it too.

And then he walks away.

She’s relieved. And sad. She can be both.

When the dust settles, she takes a few days off. Goes to the movies. Drives up to Stinson Beach. Clears her head.

It’s not the first time she’s known disappointment. But it’s the first time that it hurts this much.

* * *

It’s easy to move on when work gets busy.

Claire puts the situation with Neil behind her. Their runs together, the talks, the growing friendship that turned into something more. She breaks up with Dash and works with her therapist to make peace with herself.

Then the pandemic starts.

Everyone is playing catch up. There’s no time for complicated relationships or emotions or drama. There’s getting up in the morning, treating patients with little to no information, watching people get sicker, watching them die.

Rinse and repeat.

She’s working mostly with Lim. She welcomes it. They work well together and it could position her nicely for Chief Resident if she does a good job.

But in this environment of constant sickness, new symptoms, and new rules, distinguishing herself isn't the priority. It’s all about treating patients as best you can.

She and Neil are back to being just colleagues. No meeting at the track. No after-work adventures. There’s no time. He’s feeling the pressure of their situation too, trying to take whatever weight he can off of Glassman and Lim while overseeing his residents and saving lives.

They are all walking a tense tightrope.

Morgan is not coping. That’s bound to blow up in her face. Claire should know.

Park is torn between his family and his duties. His life on pause as he bunks with Shaun and waits for this never-ending pandemic to pass.

Shaun feels out of control. The tidiness of his medical practice is falling apart, failing him. And he can’t be with the one person who helps make it all better.

Claire knows how that feels, too.

She’s overwhelmed by keeping patients from their loved ones. Seeing treatments fail, adjust, change. Watching people die. Feeling helpless to improve the cycle of grief and trauma.

Before when she felt like this, she and Neil would go for a jog and race each other, maybe take a walk to get coffee or some dumb excursion like bowling.

Now she goes straight home to an empty apartment. 

She misses him; thinks he misses her too. It doesn’t matter. 

* * *

There’s something different about Neil, she notices. There’s a tension released, though a sadness remains.

Lim walks in with an update. They exchange a look. Lim smiles slightly, Neil holds her gaze for too long without speaking.

Moving on stops being so easy.

She doesn’t begrudge him the comfort of sleeping with his ex – or whatever it is that’s been reignited. He must have needed the release, they both did.

And sex isn’t something she’s interested in right now after the string of men she went through while grieving. She associates casual sex with misery.

Neil catches her eye. He knows that she knows.

It’s okay, though, and she smiles at him. After the briefing, she’s the first to leave.

She wonders if they held each other through the night. If they whispered their fears, shared their anxieties, and relied on their history and long friendship to give each other some sort of absolution.

If it were like before, he'd be the only one she’d share her anxieties with. The stress of waiting for COVID test results after being exposed during rounds. The dread of telling one more family member that their loved one died alone. Sneaking trips to the storage room to return a picture or a necklace to give them peace of mind.

Would she die alone if she gets sick?

When Claire arrives home later, her apartment seems quieter, colder. She sleeps on the couch.

A few days later, Neil joins her on the balcony at sunrise in the middle of a long shift. As they sit together in silence, it almost feels like before.

Almost. There had never been silences before.

Though Neil doesn’t owe Claire anything, he explains anyway. She gives him her own form of absolution. Being with Lim is easier for the both of them.

She leaves, taking his trash with her. She feels close to him in a way she’s sure no one else is.

It still doesn’t matter.

* * *

More than any other day in her career, Claire knows what it means to be a doctor.

Today, she lost people and saved people. She’s proud of herself while also feeling like a failure. She and her co-residents are managing their patients but not managing their emotions.

Lim is busy stretching herself too thin to keep her staff and her patients safe. She leaves Claire in charge of her patients. When four of them die, she tells Claire she did everything she could, and that she’s proud of her.

“You’ll lose many more before this is over. But you saved people too. Don’t forget that.”

Claire thinks Lim needs to take her own advice. She tells her, so and they share a comfortable moment of camaraderie before Claire is ordered home.

She hasn’t seen Neil in days. He and Andrews have been rotating between surgeries and the ER. Despite their distance, she still hopes for one glance, one encounter before she leaves. Then she’ll know it’s all okay.

Like so many things in life, she won’t get that either.

And yet, she can’t wait to get back on the job and do it all over again. She briefly thinks that makes her crazy.

Neil’s voice in her head says that makes her a doctor.

Lim has given her 24 hours off. It’ll probably end up being more like 12 before she’s called back in. Still, Claire doesn’t know what to do with herself.

She eats dinner, pours herself a glass of wine. Picks up her guitar. Sleep seems far away.

Then there’s a knock on her door and Neil is on the other side as if searching for answers in her eyes.

TBC...


	3. Neil + Claire

They sit on Claire’s couch, Neil now with a healthy pour of whiskey, Claire with her wine. He’d given her the bottle of whiskey as a gift, a joke about refining her tastes. She doesn’t keep much liquor in the house anymore. 

Neil can’t exactly explain what he’s doing there. But he knows he’s where he needs to be.

“I heard about today. From Audrey.”

Claire nods. “I’m okay.”

“I know. You’re stronger than people realize.”

They share a smile.

“How’s Lim?” Claire asks, genuinely concerned.

“Not okay.” Neil responds. “But she’s dealing with it.”

The silence stretches. They sip their drinks. The occasional car zips even at this hour late, most people staying indoors anyway.

“It wasn’t comfort,” Neil says finally. “That night with Audrey. It was coping. Trying not to break down.”

She doesn’t know what to make of his explanation. “You’re both under a lot of pressure. I get it.”

“Comfort has been hard to come by these days,” he adds.

“Yeah.”

Claire thinks about the small things that have brought her comfort in the middle of so much suffering.

The card a surviving patient sent to her with pictures of her cats - a neighbor had taken care of them for her after hearing she was in the hospital. There's the staff meal packages that the ex-football player Art Kalman provides to support the doctors and hospital that had changed his life. It's the rare few minutes when their entire team rests quietly together in between emergencies.

It's scrubbing into a surgery with Neil when she can tease him about how badly he needs a haircut.

Neil watches her. Sees flashes of emotion play across her face. His heart clenches at not knowing what’s sparked it, regretting the distance that keeps him from asking.

Something inside him snaps.

“You know what’s been a comfort?” he says, resting his arm along the back of the sofa.

Claire turns to give him her full attention, curious.

“Getting my resident’s negative COVID test after having to send her home.”

Claire’s eyes soften, and Neil has to stop himself from reaching for her. Instead, he grins and continues.

“Assuring security that Claire Browne has my permission to rummage around the storage room looking for lost items, and that, yes, she’s following all proper sanitizing protocols.”

Claire is surprised, and then she laughs. “I didn’t think you knew about that.”

“I know everything that goes on with my residents.”

She shakes her head, ignoring the swell of affection and longing that is building from being here like this with him. She wants to simply enjoy the moment.

“What comforted me when I needed it was sharing a cup of yogurt and a sunrise with someone I care about,” he adds.

They both hold a breath, then two. Neil looks away.

“Claire, it wasn’t falling back into old habits with Audrey. It made me feel worse, actually, and … it felt wrong.” He sighs. “Out of nowhere, there’s this weight on all our shoulders and every day is something new and awful. It feels like we’re five steps behind, making mistakes and watching people die, too often dying needlessly. And then I see you right there in the trenches with me, taking on all this responsibility. _That_ gives me comfort. And I’m so angry about it.”

Neil ignores Claire’s confused look lest he lose his nerve.

“I’m angry because we’re going through hell, and all the reasons I can’t be with you feel ridiculous and stupid. I’m not proud of this, and I know it’s unfair. I didn't want to be alone that night, but as soon as Audrey left, I was relieved and ashamed. I wanted it to be you,” he confesses, draining the rest of his drink.

Claire is struck. In complete shock. Not by his admission. She understands that completely. She just never expected either one of them to so openly acknowledge it.

Neil …” she whispers, searching his face for what to say. He won’t meet her eyes. She tries to order her chaotic thoughts, but nothing comes out.

“I know it’s complicated, maybe unethical.” He finally raises his gaze to meet hers. “But I don’t care,” he says, shaking his head. “There is so much suffering and grief right now that I just want—”

Whatever he’s going to say, Claire cuts him off by leaning in to kiss him. 

She’ll never find those words to respond so she shows him what brings her comfort right now.

His lips opening to hers. His embrace surrounding her, pressing her against his solid, warm chest.

His patience in undressing her. The shudder at his hands against her bare skin, and their utterances of devotion as they give into what they’ve wanted for a long time.

He makes love to her as if they only have the one night together – slow, deliberate, reverent.

Comfort is the safety she feels in how he holds her through the night.

* * *

As the weeks progress, they come together again and again, not needing to search too far anymore for the comforts they desperately need every day.

In private, they can reach for each other after every new development, every fear of a second or third wave. Carrying on each time they lose one of their own.

Through vaccine rumors and realities, political fights, and public disinformation. Through Park’s heartbreak, Morgan’s adjustment period, Shaun’s relationship stumbles. Through Lim and Andrews sparring for power. Through new residents and new routines.

Each time they wake up in each other’s arms, they are more secure in the rightness of what they’ve surrendered to.

The situation gets more under control, their schedules lighten, their supplies become less scarce. Fewer die and then fewer still.

Their feelings remain. Grow even stronger.

And on the other side of it, when a new normal settles into their lives and their jobs, everyone is bruised and scarred. They’ve all seen and experienced things that change them. Some rules don’t feel as important when you’re scrounging day-to-day to survive.

Who can begrudge the two of them their comforts in the worst of times, an expression of something that existed before it all went to hell and will exist long after?

Or at least that’s what people who knew them at the time say every chance they get.

At their housewarming party. At their wedding. During her first pregnancy and their youngest son's championship game. At Neil’s retirement party and their granddaughter’s graduation from medical school.

But it’s true. And they never forget their own scars and lessons.

Some comforts are undeniable. Sometimes love is too. Give into it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. I try to keep the people and situations in character as best I can, of course. But some real life stuff from my perspective in the U.S. seeps in too. 
> 
> I have many friends in different cities and in the San Jose area specifically who are still experiencing terrible racism against Asian Americans. I really do have a friend whose parents opted to stay in Taiwan in the early days rather than returning to New York City - which turned out to be the right call. And my work involves a lot of policy issues affected by public health misinformation. 
> 
> Stay safe, folks. And take good care of yourselves and your loved ones.


End file.
